In the second piece, posted on the Green blog, Rosenthal weighs bird mortalities from wind turbines against the number of birds killed each year by cats: 440,000 compared to 500 million.

The figure for wind turbines comes, presumably, from the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service (USFWS), while the estimate for annual cat kills comes from the American Bird Conservancy (ABC). Interestingly, I’ve been unable to locate anything on the USFWS Website to support the estimate attributed to that organization; in fact, the only place I’ve seen the connection made is on ABC’s Website.

Thanks to one of my devoted (and well-informed) readers, I need to correct this last point. In fact, the USFWS estimate comes from a 2009 paper (PDF available for download here) by Albert Manville, Senior Wildlife Biologist with USFWS.

Not that it makes a great deal of difference, I suppose—I don’t have much confidence in either ABC or USFWS.

Beyond the Numbers
Even setting aside for the moment the questionable accuracy of each mortality estimate, the comparison is still not as straightforward as it first appears. “If your interest is in protecting several iconic American bird species,” suggests Rosenthal, “the whooping crane, the golden eagle and the sage grouse—wind turbines are possibly the bigger problem.”

Bryce, who, according to his bio, “has been writing about the energy business since 1989,” says oil companies and electric utilities have often been sued under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act. “Yet there is one group of energy producers that are not being prosecuted for killing birds: wind-power companies.” [1]

Like Bryce, Michael Fry, ABC’s Director for Conservation Advocacy, doesn’t care for this double standard. “Somebody has given the wind industry a get-out-of-jail-free card,” he told Bryce. “If there were even one prosecution, the wind industry would be forced to take the issue seriously.” [1]

But there’s a certain irony in Fry’s complaint.

If the wind industry’s been given a “pass,” it’s due in no small part to ABC and their relentless campaign against free-roaming cats. Since at least 1997, when their Cats Indoors! program was launched, ABC has been telling anybody who would listen that free-roaming cats kill an extraordinary number of birds each year.

In so doing, ABC has given the wind industry one of its strongest arguments against making the kinds of changes ABC is now demanding.

The Marketing of the Wisconsin Study
Their undated brochure Domestic Cat Predation on Birds and Other Wildlife, for example, still available on the ABC Website, cites, among other apparently damning evidence, the infamous “Wisconsin Study”: “Rural free-roaming cats kill at least 7.8 million and perhaps as many as 217 million birds a year in Wisconsin. Suburban and urban cats add to that toll.” [2]

Not that ABC hasn’t had help. USFWS, too, has tried its best to legitimize these back-of-the-envelope “estimates,” settling on the researchers’ “most reasonable estimate” [3] of 39 million birds killed each year in Wisconsin for its publications on the subject. [4, 5]

And these efforts have paid off. For years now, news stories of birds killed by wind turbines have referred—sometimes directly, and sometimes not—to predation rates that Stanley Temple himself admitted “aren’t actual data.” [6]

A 2005 U.S. Department of Agriculture Forest Service report cites Coleman and Temple’s work specifically, [7] suggesting that their own “estimate of 100 million birds killed by cats on an annual basis” is therefore “highly conservative” by comparison. [8] According to the report:

“…annual bird mortality from anthropogenic sources may easily approach 1 billion birds a year in the U.S. alone. Buildings, power lines and cats are estimated to comprise approximately 82 percent of the mortality, vehicles 8 percent, pesticides 7 percent, communication towers 0.5 percent, and wind turbines 0.003 percent.” [8]

In Wind Power: Impacts on Wildlife and Government Responsibilities for Regulating Development and Protecting Wildlife, also published in 2005, the Government Accountability Office offers no total for birds killed by wind turbines, but goes into detail regarding several other causes of mortality, including cats (“hundreds of millions of bird deaths”) using data from USFWS. [9]

“Cats, both feral and domestic, also take their toll on birds. A Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources report [3] states, ‘recent research suggests that rural free-ranging domestic cats in Wisconsin may be killing between 8 million and 217 million birds each year. The most reasonable estimates indicate that 39 million birds are killed in the state [Wisconsin] each year.’” [10]

Laurie Jodziewicz, communications and policy specialist for the American Wind Energy Association (AWEA) offered a similar perspective in a 2009 interview with Mother Earth News: “Even if we got 100 percent of our electricity from wind turbines, bird mortality wouldn’t be even close to that which is caused by communication towers, buildings, automobiles or even cats.” [11]

“The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has estimated that approximately 440,000 birds are already being killed each year by wind turbines, yet AWEA continues to assert that the death toll is less than one quarter of this. More importantly, the industry association ignores the fact that wind development is currently a tiny fraction of that proposed for 2030 when it is anticipated to kill a minimum of one million birds annually, and likely many more.”

Still, it’s a difficult argument to make on the basis of the numbers alone.

It’s all true, of course, and it would bolster their case against the growing wind industry. On the other hand, ABC and USFWS would have to do the unthinkable: concede some of the very points TNR advocates have been making for years.

9. GAO, Wind Power: Impacts on Wildlife and Government Responsibilities for Regulating Development and Protecting Wildlife. 2005, U.S. Government Accountability Office: Washington, DC. www.gao.gov/new.items/d05906.pdf

Over the past year, “Critical Assessment” has gotten a great deal of traction among TNR opponents, despite its glaring omissions, blatant misrepresenta­tions, and obvious bias. “Reassessment”—intended to be a resource for a broad audience, including, wildlife and animal control professionals, policymakers, and the general public—shines a bright spotlight on these shortcomings, thereby bringing the key issues back into focus.

Act Locally
Politics is, as they say, local. This is certainly true of the debate surrounding TNR. Policies endorsing TNR, the feeding of feral cats, etc. typically begin with “Town Hall” meetings, or even meetings of neighborhood associations. “Reassessment” provides interested parties with a rigorous, science-based counter-argument to those using “Critical Assessment” as a weapon against feral cats/TNR.

So, once you’ve had a look for yourself, please share generously! Together, we can—in keeping with the mission of Vox Felina—improve the lives of feral cats through a more informed, conscientious discussion of feral cat issues in general, and TNR in particular.

“The animal welfare community opposes ‘cat hoarding,’ whereby people care for more pets than they can adequately support, because it is considered inhumane. Trap-neuter-return is essentially cat hoarding without walls. Considering that most communities have laws banning animal hoarding, we should consider the same standard for outdoor cats as those that are in a person’s home.” [1]

This strikes me as almost desperate—the latest volley in the kitchen-sink/something-for-everybody approach taken by some TNR opponents. Nevertheless, the analogy—however incongruous—is not new. In 2004, David Jessup made essentially the same comparison:

“Some people are compelled to own and care for excessive numbers of cats. This psychological illness is referred to as ‘collectors psychosis.’ How is the person who must save 25 to 30 cats in their home different from the person who sees themselves [sic] as the savior of 25 to 30 cats in a park? Some ‘cat people’ may be ‘collectors,’ and it is possible that TNR is enabling and supporting some people who need psychologic counseling and assistance.” [2]

Jessup doesn’t burden himself or his audience with even the slightest support for his assertions; his claims are as much conjecture as anything else, his question largely rhetorical. Five years later, Dauphiné and Cooper revisited Jessup’s query, but—despite a handful of references—do no better in terms of its resolution:

“In many cases, the characteristics and behavior of people involved in TNR are suggestive of the psychiatric disorders described in problematic animal hoarding [3]. When presented with alternatives to TNR, such as enclosed sanctuaries, no-kill shelters, and traditional animal control, many such people can be “fiercely protective, retaliatory, and uncooperative,” [4] and will subject public officials and other citizens opposing TNR to harassment and threats [5, 6].” [7]

Animal Hoarding
Dauphiné and Cooper’s argument presupposes that enough is known both about “people involved in TNR” and “the psychiatric disorders described in problematic animal hoarding” for a valid comparison to be made. In fact, very little is known about either one. Randy Frost, whose 2000 article the authors cite, begins by noting, “almost no psychiatric literature exists on this topic.” [3] A year earlier, Gary Patronek (a collaborator of Frost’s, whose work Frost cites throughout his paper) observed: “Unlike the hoarding of inanimate objects, which may be linked with a variety of psychiatric conditions, animal hoarding has not yet been linked with any specific disorder.” [8]

Nevertheless, both Patronek and Frost describe—based on some of the earliest research on the subject—some common characteristics of, and explanatory models for animal hoarding. And provide this definition:

“someone who accumulates a large number of animals; fails to provide minimal standards of nutrition, sanitation and veterinary care; and fails to act on the deteriorating condition of the animals (including disease, starvation and even death) or the environment (severe overcrowding, extremely unsanitary conditions), or the negative effect of the collection on their own health and well-being and on that of other household members.” [8]

This seems to have been the framework for the definition adopted by the Hoarding of Animals Research Consortium (with which Patronek and Frost were involved), which places greater emphasis on two key elements: denial, and accumulation and control:

Having more than the typical number of companion animals;

Failing to provide even minimal standards of nutrition, sanitation, shelter, and veterinary care, with this neglect often resulting in illness and death from starvation, spread of infectious disease, and untreated injury or medical condition;

Denial of the inability to provide this minimum care and the impact of that failure on the animals, the household, and human occupants of the dwelling;

Persistence, despite this failure, in accumulating and controlling animals.

“Saving” 25 or 30 cats, then—whether in one’s home or in the park—does not constitute animal hoarding. As Patronek pointed out during a recent interview on NPR’s Radio Times, “numbers alone don’t define hoarding… you’ve got to have these functional deficits and denial, in combination with the numbers.”

Opponents of TNR (and of free-roaming cats in general) will likely seize upon that second point, arguing that feral cat colonies—by definition—lack adequate care. But the very fact that these cats are part of a TNR program means they’ve been evaluated by veterinary professionals, requiring a concerted effort—sometimes bordering on the heroic—on the part of the trappers and caregivers involved. Some programs perform vaccinations (that this is not standard practice, is, admittedly, a controversial issue); at a minimum, cats deemed too sick to be returned are euthanized.

A 1999 survey of survey of “101 individuals or couples who cared for 132 colonies of free-roaming cats in north central Florida” illustrates the importance caregivers place on health:

“More than a third of the caretakers reported that they had provided some kind of veterinary care (not including being neutered at the TNR clinic) for the cats in the past or would provide veterinary care if it was necessary in the future. This type of care included booster vaccinations, parasite control, antibiotic treatment, ear medication, veterinary examinations, and emergency treatment.” [9]

In addition, 96% provided food, and 75% provided shelter. It’s important to note, too, that these numbers are conservative relative to the care received by the cats, in that (1) some caregivers were responsible for multiple cats, and (2) respondents to the survey were not necessarily the individuals who provided food, shelter, and so forth.

Such findings are certainly consistent with my own experience. The TNR networks I’m tapped into (mostly by way of e-mail or online bulletin boards) are typically buzzing with requests from, and recommendations to, caregivers committed to maintaining and improving the health of feral cat colonies.

On the other hand, it’s not clear from Dauphiné and Cooper’s paper that their reference to animal hoarding has anything to do with the behavior’s defining characteristics at all. More than anything else, the authors seem to be suggesting that resistance to TNR “alternatives” constitutes some psychiatric disorder—a possible reference to animal hoarders’ “reluctance to remove any animals, even when adequate homes were available.” [3]

Alternatives to TNR
Respectable sanctuaries, as I’ve already discussed, are few and far between, and typically at operating at capacity. In any case, such environments are not in the best interest of unsocialized cats. No-kill shelters, too, are scarce, and—recognizing realities Dauphiné and Cooper (and veterinarian Christine Storts, whose letter they cite) overlook or ignore—generally endorse TNR as their feral cat management approach. [10]

And as for “traditional animal control,” that’s nothing more than a rather cowardly euphemism for trap-and-kill.

“as debate regarding abandoned and feral cats has become more heated, concerns have emerged regarding the extent to which some activists will go to promote their cause. Those supporting trap and removal of abandoned and feral cats, rather than TNR, have reported verbal abuse, personal threats, disruption of public forums, and interference with the conduction of their businesses.” [5]

Dauphiné and Cooper buy into Barrows’ account without bothering to check out his source (actually, these two make a shameful habit of such shortcuts throughout their paper, thereby raising questions about their numerous assertions, and, more problematically, their capabilities and integrity as researchers). In fact, Barrows cites a 2002 Wall Street Journal story in which exactly one of “those supporting trap and removal”—Frank Spiecker, of Garden State Pest Management—was interviewed:

“…property managers, fearing health complaints or lawsuits, hire Mr. Spiecker to trap and remove stray cats… Cat jobs have gotten him screamed at, threatened and jostled. His truck has been jumped on and pounded, his traps run over, and his trapped cats freed… To cat lovers, he abets feline mass murder, since most of the cats he traps end up dead.” [11]

All of which seems remarkably flimsy for describing and condemning—as Dauphiné and Cooper do—the behaviors of “many such people.” Until it’s compared to the even flimsier “evidence” provided by Hatley:

“Many citizens and public officials have voiced concerns about the public health issues and wildlife issues involved in hoarding large numbers of cats in the wild. Some who have resisted the extreme efforts by proponents of TNR and cat colonies have been subjected to verbal abuse and threats.” [6]

Dodgy research practices aside, the notion that one’s preference for TNR over “enclosed sanctuaries, no-kill shelters, and traditional animal control” is indicative of some psychiatric disorder remains a mighty hard sell. Dauphiné and Cooper’s so-called alternatives are simply not—in a very literal sense—viable options.

* * *

To compare TNR to animal hoarding betrays either a profound lack of knowledge about either one, or a desperate attempt to taint the former by association with the latter. I suspect that, like the most despicable political strategists, Jessup, Dauphiné and Cooper, and Lepczyk et al., threw it out there just to see if it would stick—the connection they’re attempting to make certainly has nothing to do with science.

I’ve a friend who jokes that the only thing feral cats aren’t being blamed for these days is climate change. Well, not yet, anyhow.

7. Dauphiné, N. and Cooper, R.J., Impacts of Free-ranging Domestic Cats (Felis catus) on birds in the United States: A review of recent research with conservation and management recommendations, in Fourth International Partners in Flight Conference: Tundra to Tropics. 2009. p. 205–219.

“…it may be that conservation biologists and wildlife ecologists believe the issue of feral cats has already been studied enough and that the work speaks for itself, suggesting that no further research is needed.”

In fact, “the work”—taken as a whole—is neither as rigorous nor as conclusive as Lepczyk et al. suggest. And far too much of it is plagued by exaggeration, misrepresentations, errors, and obvious bias. In my previous post, I presented examples of researchers “reinterpreting” the work of others to better fit their own arguments. For the next few posts, I’ll focus on some of the major flaws in the feral cat/TNR research itself—beginning with the reliance, by some, on small sample sizes.

Size Does Matter
There are all kinds of reasons for small sample sizes, perhaps the most common being limited resources (e.g., time, funding, etc.). And they are often a fact of life in real-world research, where investigators have less control over conditions than they might in a laboratory environment. Studies employing small sample sizes are not without value; indeed, they often serve as useful pilot studies for future, more comprehensive, work. They do become problematic, though, when broad conclusions are drawn from their results. Below are three (among many!) examples of such studies.

Impressive Estimates
In “Free-Ranging Domestic Cat Predation on Native Vertebrates in Rural and Urban Virginia,” [2] published in 1992, the authors estimated that the state’s 1,048,704 cats were killing between 3,146,112 and 26,217,600 songbirds each year. “This number,” they note, “is certainly inaccurate to some degree, although the estimates are impressive.” [2] Impressive? I suppose. Maybe incredible is more fitting—since the study from which they were derived included exactly five cats, four “urban” and one “rural.”

Mitchell and Beck acknowledged “the limitations of extrapolation to large areas from relatively small data sets such as ours,” suggesting that their work was intended to provoke future “careful and detailed studies that can reveal truer estimates of the impact of this introduced species.” Hawkins [3] and Dauphiné and Cooper [4], however, seem to take them at their word, regardless of any disclaimers.

Many Cats, Multiple Seasons
In a recent study on Catalina Island, the researchers “examined the home-range behavior and movements of sterilized and intact radiocollared feral cats living in the interior” [5] of the island. Although Guttilla and Stapp concede that “sample sizes, especially for males, were relatively low” despite having “tracked many cats across multiple seasons,” they nevertheless come to some rather dramatic conclusions. Among them: “sterilization likely would not reduce the impact of feral cats on native prey.” [5]

So what do the authors mean by many and multiple? Actually, there were just 27 cats in the study (of an estimated 614–732 on the island). “Four cats were tracked during all four seasons, 9 cats were tracked for three consecutive seasons, 4 cats were tracked for 2 consecutive seasons, and the remaining cats were tracked for 1 season.” [5] And these numbers were effectively cut in half, because the researchers were comparing sterilized and non-sterilized cats. At best, this is a pilot study—though it’s already morphed into something more substantial in the mainstream media.

Myth vs. Math
In their 2004 study, “Ecological Impact of Inside/Outside House Cats Around a Suburban Nature Preserve,” Kays and DeWan observed hunting cats, concluding that their kill rate (13%) is “3.3 times greater than the rate estimated from prey brought home.” [6] Not surprisingly, this figure has been used as an instant multiplier (much in the same way William George’s work has been misused) for researchers interested in “correcting” (inflating?) prey numbers. [4, 7-11]

But this ratio, 3.3, hinges on the hunting behaviors of just 24 cats—12 that returned prey home, and another 12 (11 pets and 1 feral) that were observed hunting for a total of 181 hours (anywhere from 4.8–46.5 hours per cat). It’s interesting to note that the cat observed the most (46.5 hours) was only a year old—the youngest of the 12 observed, and likely the most active hunter. This factor alone could have had a significant influence on the outcome of the study.

Also, as several studies have shown [7,8,12,13], the distribution of prey catches tends to be highly skewed (many cats catch few/no prey, while a few catch a lot). In other words, the distribution is not the familiar bell curve at all—making it inappropriate to use a simple average for calculating estimations (a topic I’ll address in detail later). What’s more, with only 12 cats being monitored, how can we be sure their behaviors accurately represent any real distribution at all?

But the key to their calculation is the average time spent outdoors. This, too, tends to be a highly skewed distribution [14, 15], although—curiously—Kays and DeWan’s data suggest otherwise. By way of example, a 2003 survey conducted by Clancy, Moore, and Bertone [15] revealed that nearly half of the cats with outdoor access were outside for two or fewer hours a day. And 29% were outdoors for less than an hour each day. A survey conducted by the American Bird Conservancy revealed similar behavior, reporting that “35% keep their cats indoors all of the time” and “31% keep them indoors mostly with some outside access.” [14]

Kays and DeWan’s average of 8.35 hours/day, then, seems rather out of line with other studies. This, in addition to a number of unknowns (e.g., influence of time of day/night on hunting success, actual time spent hunting by each cat, etc.) raises serious questions about their conclusions.

By way of comparison, using an average of 2.5 hours/day (which is not out of line with the surveys described above) would yield a ratio of 1:1. In other words, no difference between predation rates predicted by actual hunting observation and those predicted by way of prey returned home. Which is not to say that I agree with Kays and DeWan’s underlying methods—we don’t know the possible effects of seasonal variation, for example, or differences in habitat. I’m only pointing out how sensitive this one factor—with its enormous consequences—is to the amount of time cats actually spend outdoors (and, just to introduce one more complication: I’d be very surprised if the amount of outdoor time cats spend hunting is normally distributed; it, too, is probably skewed).

Ironically, while the authors express disappointment that “biologists have rarely sampled both cat and prey populations in such a way that direct effects on prey populations can be shown,” [6] they seem to have had no misgivings about how their work—suffering from its own sampling issues—might be used to misrepresent those same effects.

* * *

Next, I’ll discuss the difference between compensatory and additive predation, and how that affects predictions of feral cat impacts on wildlife.

4. Dauphiné, N. and Cooper, R.J., Impacts of Free-ranging Domestic Cats (Felis catus) on birds in the United States: A review of recent research with conservation and management recommendations, in Fourth International Partners in Flight Conference: Tundra to Tropics. 2010. p. 205–219

“…it may be that conservation biologists and wildlife ecologists believe the issue of feral cats has already been studied enough and that the work speaks for itself, suggesting that no further research is needed.”

In fact, “the work”—taken as a whole—is neither as rigorous nor as conclusive as Lepczyk et al. suggest. And far too much of it is plagued by exaggerations, misrepresentations, errors, and obvious bias. For the next few posts, I’m going to present a sampling of its more serious flaws, beginning with how some researchers “reinterpret” work of others to suit their own purposes.

Tell It Like It Is
Studies of cat predation frequently cite the work of William G. George, who, in 1974, published a paper documenting his meticulous observations of the hunting behavior of three cats on his southern Illinois farm. “The results,” wrote George, “established a basis for examining the possibility that cat predation may result in depleted winter populations of microtine rodents and other prey of Red-tailed Hawks, Marsh Hawks, and American Kestrels.” [2]

Thirty years later, David A. Jessup interpreted things rather differently, giving George’s work an additional—and unwarranted—degree of certainty. Gone are the doubts that George expressed—first, regarding the impact of cat predation on rodent and other prey populations; second, regarding the relationship between these populations and the raptors that feed on them. For Jessup—who offers no additional evidence—it’s all very straightforward: “Feral cats also indirectly kill native predators by removing their food base.” [3]

More recently, Guttilla and Stapp seem to prefer Jessup’s take: “Human-subsidized cats… can spill over into less densely populated wildland areas where they reduce prey for native predators (George 1974).” [4]

If any additional work has been done on the subject (surely there are more cats in the area these days; how are the voles and raptors faring?), it seems to have gone unnoticed. Instead, Jessup, Guttilla, and Stapp (and others, too, no doubt) have simply rewritten George’s conclusion to suit their own purposes. Perhaps their version makes for a better story, but it’s rather poor science.

At the risk of drawing too many parallels between the two papers, I think the same can be said for Coleman and Temple’s infamous “Wisconsin Study.” (On the other hand, it does serve a useful purpose as a red flag.) Actually, as Goldstein et al. point out, Coleman and Temple’s paper was never peer-reviewed (not necessarily a deal-breaker in my book, but such publications do warrant additional scrutiny), but achieved its mythical status by being cited ad nauseam in peer-reviewed journals, as well as the mainstream media.

Does anybody actually believe the numbers suggested by Coleman and Temple? Stanley Temple (one of the co-authors of the recent anti-feral cat/TNR comment in Conservation Biology) himself admitted their published figures “aren’t actual data; that was just our projection to show how bad it might be.” [5]

I don’t think Longcore et al. [6] or the editors at Conservation Biology put much stock in the Wisconsin Study—so why continue to publish “projections” that have been so thoroughly discredited? Because doing so strengthens their case, at least among those who don’t know any better—especially people outside the scientific community, including many journalists, policy makers, judges, and the general public.

In their recent comment, Lepczyk et al. suggest that conservation biologists and wildlife ecologists “look to the evolutionary biology community” [1] for an example of how to influence policy:

“When local policies or regulations are put forth that promote the teaching of creationism or intelligent design, the evolutionary biologists have responded in force from across the nation and world.” [1]

Let’s set aside for the moment all the baggage associated with their analogy. My question is this: Is the evolutionary biology community still publishing bogus “projections” from 13 years ago? I doubt it.

Check Your Premises
In their recent paper (available for download via the American Bird Conservancy (ABC) website), Dauphiné and Cooper arrive at their absurd figure of “117–157 million free-ranging cats in the United States,” [7] in part, by way of Jessup’s “estimated 60 to 100 million feral and abandoned cats in the United States.” [3]

So where does Jessup’s figure come from? We have no idea—there’s no citation. And Jessup is no authority on the subject—having conducted no studies or reviews of studies that quantify the feral cat population. What’s more, his “estimation” is among the highest figures published. Yet this is the shaky foundation upon which Dauphiné and Cooper attempt to build their subsequent argument.

The authors then add to the (dubious) number of feral cats the proportion of pet cats allowed outdoors. They refer to a 2004 paper by Linda Winter, director of ABC’s Cats Indoors! campaign, in which it was reported, “A 1997 nationwide random telephone survey indicated that 66% of cat owners let their cats outdoors some or all of the time.” [8]

That’s an interesting way to put it—Winter makes it sound like two-thirds of pet cats are essentially outdoor cats. But the survey—commissioned by ABC!—actually indicates that “35% keep their cats indoors all of the time” and “31% keep them indoors mostly with some outside access.” [9] The difference in wording is subtle, and hampered by imprecision—it all comes down to the meaning of some.

Winter’s 2004 paper implies that there are twice as many outdoor pet cats as was indicated in the original survey—an interpretation Dauphiné and Cooper seem to embrace. Had they looked further—and to a less biased source—they might have been able to get a better handle on the degree of outdoor access. For example: a 2003 survey conducted by Clancy, Moore, and Bertone [10] revealing that nearly half of the cats with outdoor access were outside for two or fewer hours a day. And 29% were outdoors for less than an hour each day.

Do these “part-timers” have the same impact on wildlife as feral cats? Dauphiné and Cooper would have us believe they do.

[Note: For a closer look at the flaws in Dauphiné and Cooper’s paper, download “One Billion Birds,”by Laurie D. Goldstein.]

The lesson? Credible research begins with a solid foundation; a weak foundation—one plagued with unsubstantiated claims—on the other hand, leads to pseudoscience.

When All Else Fails, Look It Up
Though this would seem to be utterly obvious, it apparently bears repeating: Don’t cite work you haven’t actually read.

Isn’t this emphasized in all graduate (indeed, undergraduate, too) programs? What grad student isn’t, at one time or another, tempted to take the easy way out—ride the coattails of somebody else who’s (presumably) done the real work? In addition to the ethical implications, such shortcuts tend to invite more immediate troubles, too. Again, George’s work (described above) provides an excellent case study. Below are some examples of how his work has been referenced in the cat predation literature:

“It is very unlikely that cats bring home all of the prey that they capture. What proportion they bring home has been little studied. George (1974) on a farm in Illinois USA found that three house cats, all adequately fed, brought home about 50% of the prey that they killed.” [11]

“George found that about 50% of prey were indeed brought home, with the other 50% being eaten, scavenged by other animals or simply not found.” [12]

“These approximations are probably underestimates, assuming that cats do not bring back all the prey that they kill.” [13]

Trouble is, George never said these things; what he said was:

“… the cats never ate or deposited prey where caught but instead carried it into a ‘delivery area,’ consisting of the house and lawn. The exclusive use of this delivery area was verified in 18 to 70 mammal captures per cat, as witnessed between early 1967 and 1971.” [2]

In 2000, Fitzgerald and Turner pointed out the fact that George’s work was being misrepresented, noting that the erroneous 50% figure “has been reported widely, though it is unfounded.” [14] Nevertheless, the myth persists—even in 2010.

“In Illinois, George (1974) found that only about half of animals killed by cats were provided to their owners, and in upstate New York, Kays and DeWan (2004) found that observed cat predation rates were 3.3 times higher than predation rates measured through prey returns to owners. Thus, predation rates measured through prey returns may represent one half to less than one third of what pet cats actually kill…” [7]

As Dauphiné and Cooper demonstrate, the “reinterpreted” version of George’s work makes for a very convenient multiplier—suddenly,every kill reported is doubled (or tripled, if Kays and DeWan are to be believed—and they’re not, but that’s a topic for another post). Never mind the fact that it has no basis in actual fact.

Getting a copy of George’s study isn’t difficult, especially with the inter-library loan services available today. To reference it—to use George’s work so that your own appears more credible—without ever having actually read it, is simply inexcusable. But citing it blindly suggests more than laziness—it points to a certain coziness that has no place in scientific discourse. Too much Kool-Aid drinking, and not enough honest research.

* * *

Scientists can (and do) look at identical results and come to very different conclusions. But misinterpreting, misrepresenting, or dismissing the conclusions of others, is something else altogether. As the above examples (and there are many, many more!) illustrate, this happens far too often in the feral cat/TNR literature. And if we can’t believe what researchers are saying about the work of others, why would we believe what they say about their own work?

Next, I’ll focus on some of the major flaws in the feral cat/TNR literature—beginning with small sample sizes…

7. Dauphiné, N. and Cooper, R.J., Impacts of Free-ranging Domestic Cats (Felis catus) on birds in the United States: A review of recent research with conservation and management recommendations, in Fourth International Partners in Flight Conference: Tundra to Tropics. 2010. p. 205–219

8. Winter, L., “Trap-neuter-release programs: the reality and the impacts.”Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association. 2004. 225(9): p. 1369-1376.

Three months after my letter to Conservation Biology was rejected, it’s become apparent what they were really looking for: applause, not criticism.

Of course it probably doesn’t help that I’m not a member of the club; I don’t even know the secret handshake. (Michael Hutchins, writing for the Wildlife Society Blog, “Making Tracks,” has accused me—an outsider—of trying to “out-science the scientists.”)

The reasons behind this lack of opposition are unclear, but it may be that conservation biologists and wildlife ecologists believe the issue of feral cats has already been studied enough and that the work speaks for itself, suggesting that no further research is needed. Or, they simply do not want to devote time and energy to the issue and are unaware of policy actions.

I’d like to offer an alternative explanation. Yes, the work speaks for itself, but there are plenty of observers—surely, there are conservation biologists and wildlife ecologists among them—who don’t particularly like what it’s saying.

For the next few posts, then, I’m going to present a sampling of the more serious flaws—including exaggerated and misleading claims, botched analyses, questionable research and review methods, and widespread bias—all too common in the feral cat/TNR literature. Let’s see what Lepczyk at al. are cheering about…